Time Lost
by PurplePirateofProcrastination
Summary: When Percy gave his life for the world, for Annabeth, at the Doors of Death, he had expected to awake in Elysium. Instead, he found himself in front of 3 old hags. Unfortunately for Percy, the fates have a twisted sense of humour, and he is sent spiralling into the future. The surprises that he finds there only reinforce his idea that life is very cruel.
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by an old fiction that I read a while back. I'll be updating this whenever I'm bored, so I wouldn't expect a tight schedule.**

* * *

"Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real."

~Cormac McCarthy

* * *

 _Percy_

Bob's attacks grew slower, and slower as the battle drew on. The titan gave his all, but his attacks were ineffective at best, while Tartarus seemed to grow more proficient as the fight continued. Small Bob leapt at the dark, hunkering mass, but Tartarus merely swatted him aside as if he was nothing. Bob charged, the sight of his best friend being hurt filling him with rage. It proved in vain, however, the God wrenching his spear right from his grip, kicking the dazed Bob to his knees.

"Yield!" the Pit bellowed, levelling Bob's own weapon to his head.

The titan looked up, his face resolute, but his breathing haggard, and pained. He was defeated, and Percy knew it. His fingers slipped between Annabeth's, and he squeezed her hand tightly, reaffirming that he was, in fact, there with her.

"I will not," he said. "You are not my master."

He raised Bob's spear, growling as he did so, which made the ground shake and the air vibrate. "Die in defiance then!" he shouted, before thrusting the spear downwards, straight into Bob's defenceless head, before he had any time to react. Percy forced his eyes shut, tears forcing their way out from beneath the vice. He heard Annabeth choke out a sob beside him, and then a heavy _thud_ before the familiar sound of a body dissolving into golden dust filled his ears. He wanted nothing more at that moment to charge at Tartarus, release the pent up rage, make him pay, but his rationale remained in check, and his legs remained rooted to the spot, unmoving.

In the distance, a horn sounded, signalling the arrival of the next wave of monsters, and at that point, he felt utterly without hope. They had failed. Bob's valiant sacrifice would be for nothing, Gaia would likely rise; only they wouldn't be around to see it.

He turned to Annabeth, their eyes meeting. There was a small part of him that wanted to make her get in the elevator, but even he knew there was no way he could hold off Tartarus for even one minute, let alone twelve. He tried to give a small smile, but his lips wouldn't obey his commands. He was too emotionally drained at that point, and he suspected Annabeth was the same. Despite that, she still looked gorgeous, even with the mud stained face, and tear streaked cheeks. In fact, he had never loved her more than he did at that point.

"Together?" she asked him.

"Together," he confirmed. At least they would die side by side, as grisly as that sounded in his mind.

He turned back to Tartarus, who stood triumphantly about 100 metres to their front. He was about to muster a final war cry, and charge, but cries, and not of conquest, rippled through the monster army. In the haze, Percy heard howls of pain, shrieks of hurt, and a persistent boom, boom, boom that was too fast to be a natural tremor – more like the sound Mrs. O'Leary made when she charged him at full pelt, hell bent on giving him a slobbery shower. An Earthborn flew into the air, almost comically, as if he had been tossed. A cloud of bright-green mist flowed across the horde of monsters, everything it touched, instantly dissolving in a pool of gooey liquid.

Across the newly cleared open ground, appeared the cause of the pandemonium, and Percy couldn't help but grin.

The Maeonian snaked forward; hissing as it went and spitting more, and more acid into the monster ranks. It whipped its tail around, and several Cyclopes went flying across the void. On its back was a red-skinned giant, flowers adorning his rust-coloured braids, and his drakon rib lance in hand. Percy had never been more elated at the sudden appearance of a Giant before.

"Damasen!" Annabeth cried.

Said giant tipped his head. "Annabeth Chase, I took your advice. I chose myself a new fate."

Tartarus didn't take the appearance of his estranged son very well. "What is this? Why have you come, my disgraced son?" he hissed.

"Father, perhaps you desire a more worthy opponent?" the Giant asked the Pit calmly. "You wished me to be more warlike? Perhaps I will start by destroying you!"

He raised his lance and lunged. Monster reinforcements attempted to swarm him, but the now tame Maeonian drakon flattened them with ease with its enormous tail, and acidic breathe. Percy pitched in where he could, the monsters receiving a 'Cocytus-Lethe-Styx Shower Supreme' which left many half vaporised, and half distraught, but he was beginning to see the futility of their situation. Damasen wouldn't be able to defeat Tartarus, so he was only playing for time, but there was no-one else around to hold the elevator button.

He dispatched a squad of Scythian Dracaenas who had attempted to flank around Damasen's rear with water from the River Lethe, before pausing and turning to Annabeth. She was just out of his physical reach, fighting like a demon against a squad of Cyclopes who had the misfortune of stepping into her line of sight. With one final swing of her drakon bone sword, the last of the Cyclopes fell, and she turned, looking for yet more targets to end. He quickly grabbed her arm, pulling her into his embrace. It took her completely by surprise, and he was almost afraid she would judo-flip him again, but whether out of exhaustion, she didn't, only staring up at him with those big, stormy gray eyes that he adored.

"I love you," he said, before meeting her lips with his own, in one last passion filled kiss that he hoped she would remember him by. They withdrew from each other's embrace after a few seconds, far too soon in Perseus's opinion. She reciprocated his love crazed look, though, which only made what he was about to do even more difficult than it already was.

"I lo-" she started, but he gave her no time to respond. He had made his decision, but there was no way she'd love him after it. He quickly brought the hilt of his sword down on the back of her head. She immediately collapsed, out cold, and it took some of his last energy reserves to muster enough strength to catch and hold onto her.

Praying the monsters would be kind enough not to stab him in the back, he dragged her unconscious form into the elevator. A tiny part of him felt guilty about what he was doing, but the rest was completely at peace. _This is for her,_ he kept telling himself, both aloud and in his mind.

He collapsed on top of her from the exertion, the faint smell of lemon shampoo still somehow present. He smiled inexplicably at the memories the aroma triggered, before giving her a final kiss, this time on her forehead, and retreating from the elevator. He didn't look back, mostly out of fear he would break down, but partly because looking back would be an admission of regret, and that was one thing he refused to feel. In a Hollywood-esque cliché, he silently promised himself he wouldn't cry, though the exhaustion, and the emotional torment he was suffering from was in danger of catching up to him. _This is for her,_ again, he told himself, before pressing the button, sealing his fate.

* * *

Holding the button was harder than it sounded and he vaguely recalled seeing several people do something very similar to a car when he was little, though they had to hold it for hours, instead of minutes. They didn't have monsters hacking away at them with very pointy swords, in fairness.

Admittedly, he vainly thought about how he would be remembered, while his hand remained planted on the small 'up' button. Would there be songs sung about him? Maybe a flattering statue of his likeness on Olympus, perhaps?

The Maeonian drakon, meanwhile, was making short work of the monsters that dared get in its way, while the battle between Tartarus and Damasen was a sight to behold. The giant, despite being, well, a giant, lithely danced around the Pit, cutting him where he could, but in actuality, doing little more than making him mad. The few monsters that did dare attack Percy were swiftly cut down. Even with diminished strength, they proved to be completely inept at taking him on. At that point, though, he was running on nothing but willpower.

 _Ding._

He turned. The little arrow on the elevator was pointing to the extreme right. The 12 minutes were up. He hoped Nico had kept his promise. He hoped they would be there at the entrance, there to ensure Annabeth's safety. No. He knew they would be there. They had to be. Fate had a funny sense of humour, but surely it wasn't that cruel? A few seconds passed, and then _poof_ , the elevator disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. It was over, for the third time in several hours, it was over. This time, truly. A massive, invisible weight lifted from his shoulders. _Annabeth was safe_. She'd have a bump on her head in the morning, but she was safe, and that's all that mattered.

He turned back to the battle, just in time to see the Maeonian drakon brought down by no less than 100 Earthborn, who had jumped on it, creating one massive doggy pile. The drakon roared on, thrashing, doing its best to throw the attackers off, but they would not relent. They stabbed at it continuously with their comparatively pin-like weapons. It proved too much for the beast. With one final jet of acid, it dissolved into a large pile golden dust that whirled away in the subterranean winds, no doubt towards the swamp where it would probably reform in a matter of days.

It had done a number on the monster army. Almost everywhere he looked the ground was covered in a thin layer of golden dust that slowly began to dissipate. In fact, the only place that wasn't covered was the area around Tartarus himself. Damasen was still frustrating the Pit, but he had slowed considerably. He charged at one of Tartarus's crane sized legs, only to feint at the last second, and change direction. The Pit saw through it though, and managed to bring his fist around just in time for Damasen to smash into it. He stood rooted to the spot, dazed, and Tartarus immediately seized upon the opportunity, enclosing an enormous scoop like hand around his son's neck and raising the Giant up so that his feet would no longer touch the ground. The purple, hunkering mass brought the Giant before his terrifying, swirling pool of darkness, where a normal face should have been.

"Nothing but a disappointment, even now as you stand before me, defeated. Death is too easy for you, _son_. Bask in the void!" the Pit thundered, before immediately forcing the helpless Damasen inside, resulting in a spectacular cloud of red-black smoke. The giant didn't even have time to scream.

Percy bowed his head at the loss of his brave friend, a sacrifice that the 6 would have to make good by. He so wanted to join the fight, to have one last hurrah, but his body was broken, and unwilling.

Tartarus turned to him, and remnants of the monster army gathered behind to form a picture that was more at home in a Lord of the Rings novel, instead of the real world. The pit caught sight of, or rather, noticed the absence of the elevator, his huge fists clenching in response.

Percy sunk to his knee's, finally succumbing to exhaustion, dropping Riptide in the process which hit the ground with a resounding, and unnatural _clunk_ which resonated around the yawning chasm, almost as if to proclaim Percy Jackson's capitulation to the world.

"You are brave, Perseus Jackson. You think you have won here today, but you haven't. All the giants have risen, and Gaia will rise on schedule. There will simply be one less pesky mortal around to see it," the Pit said, strolling up to him in an almost casual fashion, ripped purple skin glistening in the humidity.

Percy raised his head and stared into the swirling abyss matted upon Tartarus's shoulders. It was terrifying, yes, but was Percy scared? No. He wasn't frightened anymore. The fear he had felt earlier a reaction to the thought of never leaving the place, to the thought of failure. Annabeth was safe, the doors had relocated. He had fulfilled his fate, and had come to terms with it. There simply wasn't nothing to be scared of anymore…unless Hades decided to play a sick joke and send him to the Fields of Punishment upon his departure. That seemed unlikely, though.

"You know, I wish I would be alive to see your face when you find out that your wife was defeated by 6 resilient mortals. Shame you don't have one, isn't it?" he sarked, throwing all sense out the window.

The Pit laughed, or at least, Percy thought he was laughing. Really, it sounded like a lawnmower that had been sent through a field of rusty, metal chains.

"Do you have any last words, Perseus Jackson?" the Pit bellowed in his 'indoor voice' which was still 50 decibels too loud.

Of the 17, or so, years Percy was alive on planet Earth, there were few things he truly felt guilty about. Bianca's death was top dog, of course, but his slightly underwhelming 'out' was beginning to creep up the list. He had always thought he would die in his sleep, Annabeth in his arms, or failing that, in one humongous explosion, preferably taking Justin Bieber with him.

"It's just Percy," he responded, without hesitation. A mental image of his grave stone popped into his head, at that rather appropriate time. " _Percy Jackson – Irritating to the very end."_ It read.

Tartarus brought the spear down, straight into his heart. You know how they say your life flashes before your very eyes just before you die? It happened.

His birth, his childhood, his mother, his father, his first quest, his last quest, his friends, and then finally, Annabeth.

And with one final puff of air, he departed the realm of the living, the image of Annabeth implanted firmly in his mind.

* * *

 **This was heavily centred around a chapter from The House of Hades, so yes, the author may own the order of some words. I guess this more light hearted, than a proper, dark, emotional scene. Tell me what you think, or don't, and I may see you later, or I won't. Pairing is undecided at this stage.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the encouraging response. I hope this next chapter is to your expectations and tastes.**

* * *

"It was so quiet; you could hear a pun drop."

~Arthur Baer

* * *

 _Percy_

Staring into the vast blackness, Percy couldn't help but think the Underworld had really let itself go since the last time he had visited. Before, it had been a barren, featureless, dreary wasteland that could suck the joy out of even the most positive people. Now, though, it was just featureless. There was nothing. Zip. Nada. Zilch. Just blackness; an emo's paradise. Nico would have loved it.

He took an experimental step forward, but he felt neither the movement, nor the contact where foot touches ground. He felt whole, but he sort of…didn't. The sensation was indescribable. The sensation of not having any sense. Like being weightless, sort of, but with his senses deprived of all input, there was no way of knowing for sure. Plus, he had never been weightless.

He felt no heat, or coldness through his skin. There was no wind, no taste in his mouth, no sounds, and there definitely wasn't any smell. He wondered if it was normal, if it was what all people felt after they had moved on, completely numb.

 _Moved on_. _Death_. Percy hadn't died before, but surely it wasn't normal to be floating in an endless void of blackness. _This isn't the underworld,_ he decided. It was even more depressing than the realm of Hades, who wasn't exactly a bucket of laughs.

He tried calling out to the nothingness. "Hello!" he shouted, and surprisingly, he heard the word come out. It was very faint, as if his mouth was at one end of a football field, and his ears at the other.

" _Perseus Jackson,"_ 3 voices, all in sync, sounded from the depths of oblivion. He was sure he jumped at the sudden intrusion of his solitude. If he had retained the feelings in his arms and torso, he would've felt himself jumping a foot into the air, he was sure. He 'whisked' his head around towards the voice.

At first, there was nothing, just as there was before. Then, 'in front' of him appeared the outline of three figures, gradually materialising into existence. Their appearance was unexpected but not surprising. Living in a demigod world tended to put a dampen on surprises.

They were uglier than the four gates of hell. Exposed flesh was heavily burnt, and peeling off in most areas. Crooked noses, and eyes sunk deep within their sockets 'adorned' their faces, while stringy, dirt ridden hair, matted with cobwebs and who know's what else, matted their wrinkly heads. The first carried a spindle, the second a staff, and the third, a pair of shears. Percy instantly knew he was 'looking' at the fates.

They were smirking in his direction, probably amused at how much of a joke they had made his life. He wanted to be angry with them, he wanted to stand up and chastise them for all the heartache they had caused him. But he couldn't. There were countless people who had worse fates than he had, and what was one mortal to them? They obviously had no regard for life, or else they wouldn't have made it so cruel to begin with.

"I guess I have you three to thank for my being here," he said, the absence of sound, other than their voices, deafening beyond measure. There was not even a ringing in the inner ear, though that might be a false claim, since he couldn't actually feel his ears.

" _Your being no longer exists, Perseus Jackson. You are in the void. We speak to you through our minds, and you see us through yours,"_ they corrected in unison, as if reading his thoughts, and in all likelihood, were doing just that.

"My being no longer exists?" he replied, deciding to forgo his instinctual correction of his name, whilst simultaneously retracting his previous thought. Being told you no longer existed definitely _was_ weird.

" _Only your thoughts, and thinking power remain, forever alone in the void, a place outside time and space itself,"_ they confirmed.

"Well, if I'm 'forever alone' in…wherever the hell this is, why are you here? Don't your presences here sort of contradict the 'alone' part?" he sassed, mentally glad he had retained his signature sarcastic nature, even after departure.

They didn't reply. Instead, the first rolled out a relatively short length of string, and held it up for Percy to 'see'.

" _Your string was never cut, Perseus Jackson,"_ they said. _"You do not belong here. This was not your fate."_

"You mean, I wasn't meant to die? I was taken before my time, so to speak?"

" _That is what we just said,"_ they mocked. Apparently the Fates were capable of humour, devoid of any emotion though it was.

"But, why are you here, then? Surely you haven't come here just to tell me I wasn't meant to die?" he questioned, slightly afraid they would answer with a 'yes' and then disappear in a cloud of smoke.

" _With your untimely death, the balance of the world has been disrupted. We will send you back to your mortal world, mind and body restored, so that order my resume._ "

"I can go back, just like that? No, if's or but's?"

" _This is not a favour, Perseus Jackson. We are merely doing our duty. Now, do you wish to go back, or should we leave you here for all of time?_ " they said, sounding utterly bored, though maybe it was because they seemed incapable of feeling anything. Besides, Percy didn't exactly feel like anything much in the grand scheme of things, but maybe that was because he had depth perception.

"Send me back," he answered without hesitation, before everything turned black again, this time, his consciousness included.

* * *

Fittingly, Percy woke up on a beach, half his face stuck to the wet sand, with the feeling of cool seawater gliding over the lower half of his body. Feeling. He could feel again! He had barely noticed it during his time in…wherever he was, but the absence of touch, the absence of temperature…He would never take them for granted again.

He smiled into the sand, gripping handfuls with his fingers and enjoying the warmth on his back from the sun. Several birds in the tree's nearby chirped blissfully, while a sweet breeze hung in the midday air.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes, only to instantly recoil in discomfort at the glaring brightness the giant ball of burning gas brought forth. A chuckle escaped his lips, despite the irritation. 'Blinded by light' certainly beat 'blinded by darkness'.

Gingerly, he blinked several times in rapid succession, gradually becoming accustomed to the dazzling blue sky, and radiant sunlight. Somewhat reluctantly, he forced himself to his feet, knowing full well he could have laid there for hours in utter serenity.

He brought his hands to his face, staring at them, before peering down at his chest and legs. Their absence unnoticed in the void, yet here he was, whole once more, and Gods, it felt good. He couldn't wait to see Annabeth's face. Annabeth. At her recollection, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he went completely limp, collapsing in the sand as waves of raw emotion assaulted his mind.

He laid there, half in the water, half out, twitching every so often, as love, anger, happiness, betrayal, joy, and hurt attacked all at once. He had not thought about her once in the void. His emotions had been completely numbed, and he only now realised it. If what the fates had said was true, he could have floated there forever, feeling nothing, alone with his persona. A fate worse than death itself.

Tears escaped the Hero of Olympus's eyes. First of sadness; he had left Annabeth, and even if it was to save her life, he knew full well what his death would have done to her. His tears of sorrow quickly turned into tears of joy, however. He was back. He could be with Annabeth again, and this time, nothing was going to stop him. A hero who dies to save his love, and is then resurrected, was surely the making of a happy ending.

First things first, though, he would have to find out where he was and rejoin the fight against Gaia. It couldn't have been more than several hours since he died, as black as that sounded in his mind. Jumping to his feet, with his heart beating with fiery determination, he gave the surrounding area a quick 360. It was picturesque, and familiar. Very similar to the beach at Camp-Halfblood, in fact, but it wasn't as wide, and there was a distinct lack of energy about the place. It was just a normal beach, not the place that held many of his most clear-cut memories.

The sea was, in contrast, quite rough and unsettled, contrary to the lack of clouds and high winds. Something had ruffled Poseidons feathers, or rather, scales. Still, the gentle breeze filled his nostrils with that familiar salty sea scent that seemed to rejuvenate him almost as much as seawater itself did. He closed his eyes and breathed it in, before exhaling theatrically. Indeed, it was a pleasant day to give a girlfriend a heart attack.

The Son of Poseidon opened his eyes, feeling refreshed and alert, ready to begin his search, silently praying it would be a short one. He turned around, and was ready to make his way along the beach, hopefully finding civilisation in the process, but movement in his peripheral vision caused him to freeze mid-stride, his ears alert for any noises out of the ordinary.

 _Snap._

At the noise, Percy instantly dove to his right, his fingers making a break for Riptide, which sat snug in his pocket, as per the norm. He clicked the cap mid-roll, and by the time he was back on his feet again, the sword had extended to its full length, the bronze blade reflecting rays of sunlight. He turned towards the noise, and there, on the small ridge that marked the start of the beach, stood a boy, only slightly younger than he was, staring wide eyed.

Percy froze under the boy's gaze for a few seconds, before realising that he had just pulled his sword out in front of a mortal, who was probably wondering why there was a teen on an empty beach carrying just a tennis racket with no balls or net nearby. In retrospect, it wasn't the weirdest thing he could think of, but the mortal didn't know that, so he quickly capped the pen, though he didn't put it back in his pocket out of fear the 5'3" Elijah Wood lookalike with dull green eyes would suddenly morph into a 7'3" brute with biceps the size of Baltimore, and a single eye planted on his forehead. It had happened.

Sensing they could stay there for hours without saying anything, Percy decided to take the earnest. At least now he could find it where he was.

"You speak English?" he asked, as if he hadn't just performed a perfect combat roll, whilst holding a sharpened, bronze sword.

His words seemed to break the younger kid out of his surprised stupor, and with a slight shake of the head, he replied in perfect English, with an accent characteristic of someone who had grown up in Percy's home city, New York.

"Um…yeah?" the kid frowned.

In truth, the unmistakable sound of a New Yorker caught Percy off guard a little. The kid had a Mediterranean complexion, not unlike his own, so he assumed he was still on the other side of the Atlantic, thus expecting something along the lines of 'No speak me English' in response.

"You're American? Perhaps you can tell me where I am?"

"Long Island, New York," came the reply, which perplexed Percy further. This wasn't the Long Island he remembered.

"Long Island! Are you sure?" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, there's a sign up the road and everything," the kid sassed, though Perc y could tell he was telling the truth. There definitely was a sign on the road that lead to the strawberry fields. He turned his head so that he faced down the beach. The reasoning behind returning him to America and not where he had died plagued his mind, but not more so than the question of how he was going to get to Greece before August the 1st.

"How in Hades did I get here? I've got to get to camp and talk to Chiron…" he asked himself, though apparently, the kid heard him.

"You go to Camp Half-blood?" he questioned, confusion laced in his voice. Percy instantly whirled around to face him.

"You know of it?"

"Know of it? We're in it! Did you hit your head or something?"

Percy smiled at the kid's slip up, and clicked Riptide's cap, pointing at 'shorty' who raised his hands in surrender."Nice try, kid, but I've been to camp every summer since I was 12, and this certainly isn't Fireworks Beach. Now, who are you?"

The kid backed away, while Percy inched forward. "Woah! I'm telling the truth! I'll bring Chiron here, if you don't believe me."

Usually, a monster wasn't one to plead their case, which made Percy hesitate briefly. On the other hand, monsters were, while dumb, cunning and always finding new ways of luring demi-gods to their death, so he kept up the precedent. "You're not going anywhere, kid. How do I know you won't just run off and alert your monster buddies?"

The kid looked slightly offended. "Do I look like a monster to you?" he snarked.

The kid had a point, but the mist was a powerful entity, his 5 years in the demi-god world playing witness to that fact. "If the mist can pass an 8 inch tall Chihuahua off as the Chimera, then I'm certain it can hide a small teenage kid for a _short_ while."

It took the kid a moment to understand the joke, much to Percy's amusement. "Hey! I'm just a late bloomer… What if I swear on the Styx to come back, would that make you feel better, O' tall one?"

"Immensely," he smiled, and to his relief, and slight under-handed disappointment, the kid took the oath.

"Fine. I swear on the Styx to bring Chiron back to this beach within 5 minutes," the kid pledged. Thunder crackled in the distance, binding the oath, and Percy immediately lowered his sword, relenting that the kid probably was telling the truth.

"Hurry back. There's a war on, you know."

The kid looked at him funny, as if he had no idea what Percy was talking about, teasing or not, before promptly turning on his heel and sprint off inland. The son of Poseidon started to count to 300 in his head, but the inconsistent world he found himself in was nothing short of troubling. There was no way he was in camp.

* * *

True to his word, the kid returned within the 5 minute deadline. He sort of had to, lest he die in the worst, most horrible way imaginable, though Percy often wondered if the oath was just an elaborate bluff conjured by the Fates in order to keep the Gods in line. Sort of like the stories parents would tell in order to deter children from misbehaving.

Chiron appeared on the beach boundary first, closely followed by the short kid, and then a large crowd of campers gradually gathered beside the activities director, all of whom stared down at him. Percy gave the crowd a once over, but saw no one he recognised. _Camp sure has grown whilst I've been away…_ he thought.

The centaur, meanwhile, stared at him from the perch, wide eyed and tears forming.

"You…you should be dead," he stated, echoing the first words he had said to Jason upon his arrival at camp.

"You know me, Chiron. Death never was one to keep me down. Now, I need help getting to Greece. There's still a war to be won, and I believe revenge is in order," he mused, oblivious to the mutterings and murmurs that consequently went up amongst the demi-god crowd.

Chiron raised his arm, all talk grounding to a halt, and in a hesitant, pained voice, said 8 words that turned Percy's life upside down…again.

"Percy…the Second Giant War ended fifteen years ago…"

* * *

 **A few missed opportunities, I feel, but please do tell me what you think.**

OKIdon'tknowaName – Good, I'm glad to hear it, and I shall, so long as my hands aren't bound.

Modern Demigod Hero – Thank you.

PolskaFly – Yes sir!

nerdycook24 – Oh…You'll be un-intrigued by the time you read this, then.

Stubbsie8 – Highly unlikely that it will be, as you can probably tell. I'm open to pairing ideas, just FYI.

Guest – Awesome in capital letters is awesome. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Better get used to an update every three weeks, I'm afraid. I have three different projects going on at the same time.**

* * *

"Copy from one, it's plagiarism; copy from two, it's research."

~Wilson Mizner

* * *

 _Percy_

 _Chiron raised his arm, all talk grounding to a halt, and in a hesitant, pained voice, said 8 words that turned Percy's life upside down…again._

 _"Percy…the Second Giant War ended fifteen years ago…"_

The son of Poseidon stood rooted to his spot in the sand, staring up at the centaur. A few tense seconds passed, the beach unnaturally quiet, before Percy snorted derisively, and began to walk towards the crowd.

"I know I'm back and all, but this is no time for jokes...as weird as it is for me to be saying that. Now, can you get me back to Greece, or not? The world is at stake here, Chiron," he frowned.

Mutterings from amongst the crowd of demigods sprang up again, whilst Chiron shifted nervously on the spot. The trainer, if at all possible, had aged visibly in the months he had been away, Percy noted.

"Well?" the green-eyed hero persisted, pausing several feet in front of the half-horse and ignoring the multitude of eyes trained on him. On any other day, the reunion between himself and the camp would have been an effervescent occasion, but he had other priorities, so perhaps he could be excused for giving the immortal trainer slightly less respect than he deserved.

"I...I..." Chiron stuttered, before sighing dejectedly, and remaining silent.

Percy's frown deepened as he gazed into those scarred brown eyes. Chiron's odd change in persona since Percy had last seen him was disconcerting to say the least. The centaur always kept his emotions in check, even after thousands of years of endless tragedy. The number of heroes that must have come and gone under his watch, the amount that must have fallen prey to monster attacks, to war, was unthinkable. He had held himself together all those years, yet here he was, in front of Percy, teary eyed and at a loss for words.

The crowd looked on, a fair few wide eyed and pointing. He was fairly used to crowds, but not ones that were as awkward as this one was. However, his thought from earlier sprang up again, looking the demigods over. He really didn't recognise any of them. It was if the gods had one massive breeding drive in the months he was away, and then replaced the existing heroes with new ones. As ridiculous as it sounded, it was definitely the kind of thing they would do.

"What's going on here, Chiron?" he asked. "Some of these kids look like they've seen a ghost...metaphorically speaking, of course."

The centaur continued to shift nervously, glancing back and forth between the crowd and Percy. "Look Percy, perhaps we should go to the Big House and discuss things," he pleaded, something he never thought he'd see Chiron do.

"I don't have time to discuss things, Chiron!" he exclaimed, causing the sea behind him to churn restlessly. Didn't he understand there was a war on? Didn't he understand that camp was under immediate threat? "I need to get to Greece as soon as possible. Now can you help me or do I need to fork up five-hundred dollars for a plane ticket?"

Chiron shook his head vigorously, while the crowd watched on with bated breaths. "You don't understand, Percy. You need to come with me so we can clear this all up," the centaur said, his voice desperate.

Percy looked around. The crowd, the beach, the air. All of it was different to what he remembered. He was only gone for six or seven months, yet the landscape, the sand itself had moved so drastically that it was unrecognisable to his eyes.

He held out his arms in a 'what' gesture. "What don't I understand, Chiron?" he asked. His voice was calm, but internally he was losing patience. "This place has changed so much in such a short time...Why don't I recognise anyone? What happened while I was gone?"

"We should g-" Chiron began, but before he could finish his sentence, a hopeful, melodic voice rang out from the crowd. There was a brief moment of silence, heads turning, before the crowd started to shift.

"Percy?" the voice rang. It was agonisingly familiar, but Percy couldn't quite put a name to it.

Demigods from amongst the crowd continued to move, forming a narrow pathway and revealing the glowing figure of his charmspeaking friend.

"Piper?"

"Oh my gods…" she whispered. For a few seconds, they stared at each other, shock displayed all over Piper's face. Then, wordlessly, she ran at him at full pelt, right into his arms.

They stood there for a while, Piper sobbing into his chest, his arms around her back, revelling in the comfort and relief her warmth provided.

"Back to your classes, heroes!" came the order from Chiron, and the crowd of unknown faces dispersed slowly, much to Percy's satisfaction.

Piper gently pushed herself out of his grasp, her eyes stained with tears, but a wide smile plastering her face. Percy couldn't help but reciprocate for a second, but then a sudden thought struck him. Why was Piper here?

"What are you doing here?" he asked, voicing his thought.

"I-I live here...You're alive…" she shrugged, staring at him with those kaleidoscopic eyes, scarily duller than what they were the last time he had seen them.

"Live here? We were in Greece fighting Gaia's army a couple of days ago...Why are you here...How are you here? Where is everyone else?" he persisted. If Piper was here...then who was fighting Gaia?

She searched his eyes, trying to detect any sign of humour, or dishonesty, but sensing he was completely serious, turned to Chiron, wide eyed. "Y-you haven't told him…?" she stuttered.

"I have...He refuses to believe me…"

The daughter of Aphrodite turned back to Percy, her face now devoid of relief and pain, instead only deathly seriousness played on her face. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders, and stared directly at him. "Percy, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?" she insisted.

Her gesticulation with the shoulders made him shift nervously on the spot, his eyes darting

between her face and Chiron several times in rapid succession.

"W-what's going on, Piper? Why are you here? Where's Annabeth?" he stuttered.

Piper, who, apart from the eyes, didn't look a day older than when he last saw her, shook her head, dismissing his ramblings.

"Percy, look at me...What Chiron said was true. I don't know what happened to you while you were...but fifteen years have passed since the Second Giant War...I-I'm sorry Perce…" she croaked, immediately withdrawing her hands from his shoulders and taking a step back.

Behind him, the sea began to churn, and chop more vigorously than it had done, and above, the sky was beginning to turn a shade of dull grey, in contrast to the perfect weather he had awoken to.

"F-fifteen years…? N-no...T-that's not...No! You're lying! Where's Annabeth! D-did she…?" he asked, trailing off at the end, unable to say the word.

Piper hesitated for a second before answering, "Annabeth is...fine, Percy. Just calm down, okay? We'll explain everything, I promise."

"A-Annabeth got out? She's safe?"

The daughter of Aphrodite smiled, though it didn't quite meet her dulled eyes. "Yeah, thanks to you...You saved her, Perce," she nodded.

"I saved her..?"

"You did."

Percy's stomach did somersaults at the news. His reasons for thinking Annabeth would have survived the elevator trip were non-existent. He had hoped, blindly, not willing to think of the alternative. To hear her safety confirmed was like the sky had been lifted off his shoulders once more.

Just as she had done with him, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "I-I want to see her...Take me to her."

"W-well...I…" she stuttered, looking at Chiron for support.

"Please Piper…" he pleaded.

The half-horse nodded, and Piper turned back to Percy's wide, desperate eyes.

"Alright, Percy, we'll take you to her...after we've a little chat in The Big House though. There are...a few things that you should know," she relented, praying her voice was firmer than she felt inside.

Slowly, he nodded, "Alright...alright."

* * *

Walking through camp was a surreal experience for Percy. Changes, some subtle and others not so subtle, had been made everywhere. The largest of the not so subtle changes were the cabins. After the Second Titan War, eight more had been built, in addition to the twelve that were already there. Now though, there were at least forty, all arranged to form two vast circles, one inside of the other.

As they walked along the path in between Cabins one and two, he spared a glance towards the Poseidon cabin. It was dull and dirty compared with other cabins, as if no one had given it any love for quite a long time. He prayed no one had touched his stuff while he was away, but knowing the Stolls, that was highly unlikely.

To his rear, Piper and Chiron were whispering amongst themselves. He couldn't quite hear what they were saying but he was sure they were talking about him. He could just feel the words roll off their tongues and hit him square in the back. His mind was elsewhere, though. Namely on Annabeth, but also on the eyes that continuously followed him.

Across the expanse of the cabin circle, multitudes of campers stared at him shamelessly. He had been given the same treatment when he had first been claimed by Poseidon, and somewhat towards the end of the Second Titan War as well. But whereas before he would receive looks of admiration and comfort, all he was receiving now were blank, emotionless stares.

He was awfully tempted to look each in the eye and give them his deluxe wolf stare. However, before he could give in to temptation, he froze under the shadow of a large object that was seemingly out of place. Where the hearth should have been was a large bronze statue, of about twenty-five feet tall, mounted on a square, marble plinth. The front of the statue was around the other side, so Percy couldn't see much except for the sword raised in the air triumphantly, and the Corinthian helmet the figure held in its other hand.

"Where's the campfire?" he asked, not bothering to turn towards the duo behind him.

There was a moment of brief silence before Chiron spoke up. "We moved it down the path to make room for the memorial," the centaur explained, following Percy as he moved around to the front for a closer look.

The plinth was simple in appearance, so as to avoid diverting attention from the statue itself. Nonetheless, it was elegant in its own right, with several intricate carvings on the side, some depicting events that Perseus recognised all too well. The fight against Kronos in New York, chief among which.

At the front was a single celestial bronze plaque, with the words 'Όλοι έδωσαν μερικοί. Μερικοί έδωσαν όλοι' etched in bold.

"All gave some. Some gave all," he translated aloud, before taking a step backwards and finding himself staring up at a twenty-five foot bronze clone of himself.

All in all, it was a very good likeness of himself, he would happily admit. The hair was it's mad, windswept self, and the facial features were like they had been lifted straight from his living face. But as impressive as it was, and Percy certainly had an idea who the person was that designed it, he couldn't help but feel a little angry at its existence. He was not the arbiter of heroism. For every great thing he had done, there was at least one way he had failed someone, or something. The statue made him out to be someone demigods should aspire to be, but his was not a life he wanted anyone to experience.

"A fitting memorial, is it not?" asked the ancient voice of Chiron. Percy gave the centaur a once over before turning back to his likeness.

"Memorials work best when the figure depicted stays dead," he frowned.

The centaur laughed, not sensing the seriousness, and truthfulness in what Percy was saying. Now that he was alive, the statue itself was all but redundant. Perhaps he _had_ given everything, but a large chunk had just been given back to him. By all accounts, he had cheated death, while truer heroes still had the pleasure, and misfortune, of remaining in the underworld. He felt incredibly guilty at that fact, he realised, even if he was pretty much forced to come back.

"The one who truly epitomised heroism immortalised for all to see. You're the first thing the campers see when they wake up, and the last thing they see at night," the centaur continued, and Percy couldn't stop himself from cringing at the words.

"It's very...flattering..." he managed to force out. "...but there were many greater heroes than me. Beckendorf, Silena, Bianca...You shouldn't have singled me out. It wasn't fair to."

Chiron smiled sadly but otherwise said nothing. Wordlessly, Percy gave his likeness a quick disapproving glance, before turning on his heel, and continuing onwards towards the Big House.

* * *

Comfortingly, the Big House was in exactly the same shape as he last saw it, as were the volleyball courts. Thalia's pine, too, was a welcoming sight, though looking at it did remind Percy of the inevitable punch he would receive at the hand of the pine's namesake.

Bizarrely, Mr. D was not on the front porch sipping Diet Coke as per the norm, and neither was he in the house itself.

"Where's Mr. D?" he asked, as they stepped into the sky-blue house.

"Oh, Zeus did away with the 'Camp Director' part of his punishment, and instead decided to confine him to his palace on Olympus. It's actually worse for him, if you think about it. I hear they party 24/7 up there," the daughter of Aphrodite piped.

Percy snorted. He could just image Dionysus standing on his balcony with a can of Diet Coke, shouting expletives at anyone who would dare appear happy on the sidewalk below. But despite being rude, lazy, and slightly repulsive, Percy would miss him in a weird sort of way. His carefree attitude certainly made things interesting around the place, and the look on new campers when he purposely forgoed addressing them by their actual names was nothing short of hilarious.

At least now he wouldn't be threatened with dolphin-ification every time he laid eyes on the man.

They walked through the main room, passing a leopard head, the eyes of which Percy swore were following him, and entered Chiron's office. The two demigods plonked down into two beige armchairs that complemented the old fashioned room perfectly, while Chiron's body had retracted into its wheelchair state.

Their eyes met, and in a soft but strangely foreboding voice, said, "There are some things you should know."

Percy glanced at Piper briefly, and saw that her eyes were staring downwards at her lap.

"Such as?" he answered, with a due sense of dread.

"It's been 15 years to the day since you departed this world, Percy. I swear on the styx that it's true."

Thunder crackled overhead.

Once more, his eyes turned wide. "B-but-" he began, but Chiron raised his arm before he could continue.

"There's more. After the Second Giant War, the Seven were each offered immortality. Some took it...and others didn't. Annabeth was one of the ones that didn't."

"W-What are you saying, Chiron?"

The centaur sighed deeply. "There's no easy way for me to say this, Percy...Annabeth made the gods promise to leave her alone, and reluctantly they accepted. For the twelve years after she left, we had no contact with her, until one day, she miraculously appeared on Halfblood Hill with a baby in her arms. She wasn't alone, though."

What had happened was suddenly dawning on him. A great pain in his chest, whether real or imaginary, rose up from within as he put the pieces together. "N-No..."

"With her was a man-a clear-sighted mortal, I believe...She explained that they had met several years ago, that the baby was theirs, and that they were married. I'm...I'm so sorry, Percy...Annabeth has moved on."

"N-No...N-No, t-that's not tr-"

"I swear on Styx everything I just said was true," he swore. Thunder crackled again.

The son of Poseidon inched out of his chair, mouth agape in a mix of horror and disbelief.

"I-I'm...I'm going to be sick," he choked, before promptly staggering out of the room, banging his shoulder on the door in the process.

Tearfully, Piper looked up from her lap at Chiron. "Y-You didn't tell him about... _you know who_?" she questioned.

"He's shocked enough as it is...He doesn't need any more excitement for today. Go to him, comfort him. He will need someone close to him in these coming days...Make sure he doesn't do anything rash…"

* * *

 **Sorry, was in a hurry. Sorry for the terrible dialogue and pointless tirades, also. More of a filler chapter, I guess, but I suppose you could say there is an important cliffhanger at the end. Tell me what you think, or not. If you spot any mistakes, PM me them. k thx bai.**

 **Modern Demigod Hero – Thanks, I'm glad you liked it.**

 **nerdycook24 – More would be cheating, sort of. Nonetheless, a small time change is enough to ruin someone's life, as we shall see.**

 **Raxacoricofallapatoreous – That was my reaction to England's exit from the euro's.**

 **differentaschoc10 – Thanks, and I shall do so. This is a lot less stressful to write.**

 **Guest – Yes you can, and you have.**

 **Ichisake – Two chapters in, and I'm beginning to see a pattern. Very well.**

 **Stubbsie8 – Unlikely to be to be an Artemis pairing, and Zoë is dead, unfortunately. Probably Percy/Piper.**

 **RachaelSummer – Life is pretty mean in real life, to be fair.**


	4. AN

**This is somwhat against the rules but people break worse rules on this site and no one cares. Anyways. Read. Or not.**

 **I was in the middle of writing an update for Time Lost but my laptop was acting up so I hit it several times. Suffice to say that it's now broken so I put it to the hammer...so to speak...anyway, I have no other way of writing except via my phone so don't expect any updates. I might, but I might not. Will fix soon. Live long and prosper.**


End file.
